


Calisthenics

by EmonyDeborah



Category: Cheers (TV), Frasier (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Innuendo, Lilith and Frasier mess with Sam, Lilith is accustomed to common decency, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 23:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmonyDeborah/pseuds/EmonyDeborah
Summary: Frasier and Lilith left Boston six months ago. Sam comes to visit and Lilith decides to mess with him, with Frasier as her willing conspirator.





	Calisthenics

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the first season of Frasier.

“Lilith! Frasier! Over here!” Sam waved to them from the table, and Frasier nodded to the hostess. She stood aside to let them pass, and Frasier and Lilith walked to Sam’s table, Frasier's hand on the small of Lilith's back.

“Hello, Sam,” Lilith said warmly as Frasier pulled out her chair for her. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

“You too,” Sam said with his trademark charming smile. “How have you guys been? You both look great.” Lilith smiled at the floor before looking back up at Sam.

“Now, Sam, don't start that again,” Frasier warned him good-naturedly. Lilith raised her eyebrows in a silent question. “Sam is convinced that I’ve developed some sort of secret workout regimen.”

“Well the guy must have lost about ten pounds-”

“Fifteen,” Lilith said, smiling as a waitress set three glasses of water and three menus on the table. “Thank you.”

“Fifteen? Come on, Fras, a man doesn't just lose fifteen pounds.” Frasier scoffed and picked up his glass.

“I really have nothing to tell you, Sam,” he said with a smile. “I’ve had more time to cook, so we haven't been eating out as much, but-”

“Frasier just doesn't wish to share his secret,” Lilith interrupted, not quite suppressing an impish smile that Sam didn't seem to notice. He cast Frasier a smug grin and fell back in his chair.

“I knew it. What does he do?” Frasier almost choked on his drink as he met Lilith's eyes and saw what she was thinking. _No, don't say that-_

“Calisthenics,” she answered promptly, and Frasier's fingers tightened around his glass. Not the answer he’d been expecting, but he wasn't sure yet if this was better.

“Calisthenics?”

“Oh, yes,” Lilith said, folding her hands in her lap. “Several times each week.” Electricity zinged through Frasier's body. Oh. _Oh-_

“Frasier, I didn't know you were into that stuff,” Sam said, sounding genuinely interested. Frasier almost felt sorry for him. “Did you do it in Boston, or is it something you picked up after moving out here?”

Frasier cleared his throat, fingering his glass. “No, I did it in Boston, too,” he said. “But not nearly as often.” He glanced at Lilith for confirmation and smiled reluctantly at the mischief in her eyes.

“Quite right,” she said, taking a sip of her water. “As a result, he’s greatly improved over the last few months.” Frasier actually choked that time, but was grateful for the excuse to look down, hiding the odd mixture of alarm and pride he was sure must have been evident on his face.

“Improve? Don't you just watch a video or something?”

“Oh, no, you don't need a video if you're already proficient,” Lilith replied without missing a beat, eyes sparkling as she glanced at Frasier. He shifted in his chair, and Lilith's obvious glee at his discomfort brought to mind several ideas for revenge later-Frasier squirmed again. _Not helping, Crane._

Sam was oblivious.

“Maybe I should try it out,” he said thoughtfully, before making a face. “No, wait, don’t you have to wear a funny costume? Like, legwarmers or something?” Lilith snorted and Frasier grimaced, knowing she was imagining him in legwarmers and a leotard.

“Hardly,” she said. “Apparel is irrelevant.” Frasier took another sip to hide a smirk, and to keep from pointing out how very right she was. “For example, Frasier’s done calisthenics in his pajamas and later in a suit with equally satisfactory results.”

“Only satisfactory?” Frasier asked, finally beginning to enjoy this little game. Lilith’s playful moods rarely lasted longer than the time it took for him to carry her to the bedroom, and she never flirted in public. Frasier was glad she felt comfortable enough with Sam to even consider messing with him, let alone go through with it.

“Indeed,” she said, cocking an eyebrow. “Very. Were you not satisfied with the results as well?”

“Oh, deeply,” he answered seriously. Sam glanced between them, finally sensing he was missing the undertone of the conversation. “I’ve never felt so fit in my life,” Frasier said, hoping to throw him off the trail.

“Huh,” Sam said after a long moment. “Well, uh-you just do this-what, in your living room?”

Lilith opened her mouth to answer but Frasier cut her off, unable to resist. “Anywhere I possibly can, Sam,” he said, and Lilith’s lips twitched up. “The living room, the bedroom, the kitchen-”

“The shower,” Lilith said, and Frasier grinned. “Though that isn’t generally recommended.”

“Oh, come now, Lilith,” Frasier teased. “Calisthenics in the shower really is the best way to start the morning,” he said to Sam, who smiled uncertainly. “But Lilith says it makes her late to work.” Sam scoffed.

“Same old Lilith, huh? Always the killjoy.” Frasier almost laughed, recognizing Sam’s tone as the one he used when making inside jokes everyone was supposed to chuckle at and agree with, even the person being mocked. But, as had become his habit over the last few months, he glanced at Lilith first to make sure she understood. Recently, she’d confessed to him she felt out of place and uncomfortable when she didn't understand jokes, so he made a point now to check and explain jokes to her if necessary. Lilith was much more open when she felt included, and it was far easier for her to be the charming woman his friends in Boston had rarely seen.

All emotion had drained from her face, she looked down at her lap as Frasier's brain finally caught up to his ears. _Get it, because you always ruin everything fun?_ Frasier's half-smile disappeared.

“I mean come on, there's no need to be so uptight about everything. There's a reason we called you the Ice Machine.” Frasier frowned, which Sam took more for confusion than anger. “Carla came up with it,” he said in an undertone. “You just mix ‘Ice Queen’ with ‘unfeeling machine’ and-”

“Sam!” Frasier finally interrupted as Lilith set her glass on the table and uncrossed her legs.

“Excuse me,” she said stiffly, rising to her feet and smoothing her skirt. Frasier stood as she strode around the table.

“Darling-”

“I just need a moment,” she said in clipped tones, and was gone before Frasier could say another word. He stared after her for a moment before rounding on Sam.

“Was that necessary?” he hissed, hunching over the table. Sam chuckled and took a sip of water.

“Come on, Fras, I was just kidding,” he said with a grin. Frasier blinked, perplexed by Sam’s utter lack of remorse. “You used to love those kinds of jokes.”

“I did?” He didn’t remember that. He remembered making jokes he’d regretted later, and could concede that he’d perhaps become a bit insensitive, but never as callous or blatant as Sam had just been.

“Yeah.” Sam leaned back in his chair, supremely unconcerned as Frasier raked through his memory for any occasion he’d so totally disregarded Lilith’s feelings. But if Sam was right, it hadn’t been a single occurrence, but an entire behavioral pattern he’d been completely unaware of. “It was usually you making them.”

Memories were coming now. He still couldn’t remember what he’d said specifically, but crystal clear images of Lilith’s face began to bombard him, spanning over several years. Disbelief and confusion morphing into hurt and betrayal and then finally into resentful acceptance over their last years in Boston. And he’d ignored her discomfort, sometimes mollifying and even apologizing to her occasionally but mostly just not paying her any attention.

His throat was dry, he forced a swallow down before straightening and throwing his coat over his shoulders.

“Well, now they just seem in very bad taste,” he said, and Sam raised his eyebrows, his eyes wide and confused. “Look, there’s a little coffee shop near here, it’s called Cafe Nervosa, I’ll meet you there tomorrow to send you off, all right?” He gathered Lilith’s coat and purse. “Bye, Sam.” Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Frasier ignored him as he set off after his wife.

* * *

She shouldn’t have been so surprised. Her years spent frequenting Cheers had hardened her to certain off-color remarks and jokes made at her expense, or so she’d thought. But it seemed that six months without constant ridicule had lowered her guard and softened her somewhat.

Staring at her reflection and ordering it not to cry, Lilith took deep, shuddering breaths she was determined not to allow to collapse into sobs. _This is ridiculous,_ she scolded herself. She’d lived with the abuse for years, one comment shouldn't have reduced her to a quivering mess.

She ran her fingers over her french braid, tucking stray hairs back into place before adjusting the pins in her bun. She’d never let Sam or Carla or any of the others see how badly they'd gotten to her, and she wasn't going to start now. Dinner would only last two hours at the most, less if she didn't say anything. Hopefully Frasier wouldn’t try to include her in the conversation, he and Sam could reminisce about the good old days until they were done eating and Lilith could push him out the door.

Determined as she was, she fidgeted with her skirt for another moment before summoning the nerve to open the door, attempting, as she wrapped her fingers around the handle, to mentally prepare herself while knowing she would never really be ready.

“Frasier?” He was waiting outside the door, already in his coat and holding hers up with a sheepish look.

“Ready to go?” All the tension coiled between her shoulderblades flowed out in one breath.

“Really?” she asked, searching his face for any trace of hesitance. He smiled reassuringly, and until the resulting wave of relief washed over her, Lilith hadn't realized how intensely she’d been dreading facing dinner with Sam.

She allowed him to help her into her coat and gave him a smile for his trouble. “Thank you, Frasier,” she said, taking his arm. They made their way out of the restaurant, and though Frasier didn't look back, Lilith glanced at their table just before they stepped out the doors.

Sam was watching them leave, staring at the back of Frasier's head with a perplexed look on his face. Frasier slipped his arm around Lilith's waist, and she didn't look back again.

Parking had been sparse, Frasier had been forced to settle for a spot three blocks away from the restaurant. Lilith didn't mind, she enjoyed walking with him. Anywhere else there was at least a chance of being overheard by someone they knew, wandering the streets of Seattle gave them one of their few opportunities to be truly alone together, without children or in-laws or colleagues to interrupt. The sun was long gone, but the city was never really dark. Frasier and Lilith strolled down the sidewalk towards their car in the considerable light of the streetlamps.

But much as she wanted to, Lilith was unable to shake off Sam’s words, or the growing ball of anxiety in her chest.

“Frasier?” He looked down at her, giving her hip a squeeze to show he was listening. “Do you think I’m uptight?” It was a landmine of a question, she knew, but she couldn't let it fester inside her.

Frasier hesitated, his mouth half-forming words that weren't coming out. “Well,” he started, and her heart plummeted.

She didn't mean to be excessively rigid in her interactions with others, but even after thirty-five years as one she just didn't know how to _be_ with most humans. Of course there were exceptions to this rule, but they were few and far between. On the whole, Lilith was simply uncomfortable in most social interactions. Which, combined with her repressive nature, made for icy first impressions.

“I think you're very guarded, darling,” Frasier said after a moment of dithering. When she didn't throw anything at him and instead only looked down at the sidewalk he hurried to continue. “But not nearly as much as you were in Boston, or even when we first arrived in Seattle.” He tugged her closer so they were almost tripping over each other. “You're more open with me, and the children, and I’ve noticed you're even becoming more relaxed in your interactions with Daphne.”

“I am fond of Daphne,” Lilith said thoughtfully. “She is unique.” Frasier chuckled.

“Indeed,” he said. “Here we are.” They'd reached the car, and Frasier unlocked Lilith's door and opened it for her, waiting outside to shut it until she’d situated herself.

The drive home was short and comfortably quiet, punctuated only by light teasing from Frasier when Lilith removed a single pin and her hair exploded out of its bonds. Lilith laughed with him as she unwove the french braid, freeing her hair completely.

“You know, Lilith,” Frasier said as they both settled down, “I don't believe I told you how lovely you look tonight.” Lilith paused in running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to shake it into a more manageable shape.

“You’re certainly welcome to,” she said dryly, grinning at Frasier when he glanced at her.

“You're stunning,” he said, and Lilith thanked him with a smile and a quick kiss at the next red light.

Neither of them said anything else until Frasier had parked at home and they were waiting for the elevator, fingers linked.

“Lilith,” Frasier said, nervously bouncing on his toes, “I know I don't say things like this very often-and maybe I should, as your husband it’s my chosen duty to-”

“Frasier.”

“Right, well-I’m proud of you, darling.” Lilith blinked, and he squeezed her hand. “For the wonderful progress you've made in expressing yourself in the last six months.” Lilith's smile seemed like a confirmation of his words, it came easily even through her slight discomfort at his unexpected praise.

“Thank you, Frasier,” she said, and stood on her tiptoes to give him another kiss.

The elevator doors rumbled open and Lilith and Frasier stepped through, still holding hands.

“Frasier,” Lilith said as he pressed the button for Martin and Daphne’s floor, “how long do you think we have before they'll be expecting us?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Frasier said, checking his watch. “We’re early, perhaps ninety minutes.” Lilith nodded as the elevator settled into place and the doors opened. “Why, what did you have in mind?” Lilith bit back a smirk.

“Calisthenics.” Frasier froze halfway out the door, then whipped around to look back at her. She cocked an eyebrow, and he was back inside in an instant.

“In that case,” he said, punching the button for their floor and tugging her against him, “long enough.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, I love these two! Thanks for reading, please leave a comment :)
> 
> And PS- Me. Frasier thought Lilith was going to say "He's been doing me."


End file.
